the Illinois shore. Before the depth reached his middle he was halfway
over; the current would permit no more wading, now, so he struck out
confidently to swim the remaining hundred yards. He swam quartering
upstream, but still was swept downward rather faster than he had
expected. However, he reached the shore finally, and drifted along till
he found a low place and drew himself out. He put his hand on his jacket
pocket, found his piece of bark safe, and then struck through the woods,
following the shore, with streaming garments. Shortly before ten
o clock he came out into an open place opposite the village, and saw the
ferryboat lying in the shadow of the trees and the high bank. Everything
was quiet under the blinking stars. He crept down the bank, watching
with all his eyes, slipped into the water, swam three or four strokes
and climbed into the skiff that did yawl duty at the boat s stern. He
laid himself down under the thwarts and waited, panting.
Presently the cracked bell tapped and a voice gave the order to cast
off. A minute or two later the skiff s head was standing high up,
against the boat s swell, and the voyage was begun. Tom felt happy in
his success, for he knew it was the boat s last trip for the night. At
the end of a long twelve or fifteen minutes the wheels stopped, and
Tom slipped overboard and swam ashore in the dusk, landing fifty yards
downstream, out of danger of possible stragglers.
He flew along unfrequented alleys, and shortly found himself at his
aunt s back fence. He climbed over, approached the ell, and looked
in at the sitting-room window, for a light was burning there. There
sat Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, and Joe Harper s mother, grouped together,
talking. They were by the bed, and the bed was between them and the
door. Tom went to the door and began to softly lift the latch; then
he pressed gently and the door yielded a crack; he continued pushing
cautiously, and quaking every time it creaked, till he judged he might
squeeze through on his knees; so he put his head through and began,
warily.
What makes the candle blow so? said Aunt Polly. Tom hurried up. Why,
that door s open, I believe. Why, of course it is. No end of strange
things now. Go long and shut it, Sid.
Tom disappeared under the bed just in time. He lay and breathed
himself for a time, and then crept to where he could almost touch his
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